Love the Way You Lie
by supernaturalfreak17
Summary: Castiel is insane, but it's his fault. And Dean hates him for it, but he can't hate him at the same time.
1. Chapter 1

Sam didn't know it, but Dean snuck out to the hospital Castiel was at. He was sitting on his bed again, staring at the blank wall with the same pathetic look. It sickened Dean. It was Castiel's fault he was like this.

"Damn it," Dean muttered. "Answer me. Why the hell won't you answer me? Why?" Dean shouted. He was lucky the walls were soundproof, or he would have the security team on his ass. "Why the hell did you destroy everything? Did you want to see me in pain? Because I always am! You don't have to change things to see that! Not that you care a bit. You'd be happy to see me dead, wouldn't you?" When he didn't respond, Dean screamed. "Gah! What the hell is your problem?" He got in his face and Castiel didn't flinch. "_Wouldn't you? _Of course you would. I'm just a stupid human that's not good enough for you! Well, sorry that I wasn't born an Angel. Not all of us can be perfect!"

Dean collapsed to his knees and wept. His shoulders shook as he covered his eyes and ran a hand through his short hair. "God damn you, Cass. Why can't I hate you? Why? With all the crap you've done to us, I should. You probably hate me." He got off his knees and swept the water glass of the bedside table. It flew across the room and shattered against the wall. It felt good. He smiled. "That's the first time I've felt slightly okay in three years. And you don't help a bit with it. Not. At. All." He threw the lamp against the ground and felt a sick sort of glee as it shattered against the floor. It felt good. "Do you care?" He threw the three pillows from the bed to the floor and ripped off the sheets. It felt so good. Dean threw the TV to the floor and laughed as the screen cracked and flickered.

He threw his head back. "This feels so good!" He ripped the drawers out of the dresser and tossed them around the room, laughing as the wood splintered and cracked. It made him even happier when a piece of wood hit Castiel's shoulder, right where his handprint was on Dean. It pierced the Angel's skin and blood flowed freely. Dean didn't offer to help. He didn't want to. "Serves you right, bastard!"

Once the room was destroyed, Dean was out of breath. He wrote a letter to Castiel. And an apology note to Meg, so she would know who did it. She deserved to know. He turned to leave, but stopped. "I hate you," he whispered to the raven haired Angel.

As the heavy wooden door swung shut behind him, the Angel finally showed emotion. He opened his mouth and let out a scream he had been holding in for far too long. He slammed his fists into the mattress closed his eyes as he bashed the mattress, bruising his fists. Tears leaked out, ones that he didn't want Dean to see.

Dean hated him. He wanted him dead. Castiel may not be normal, but he could still read Dean's emotions. And Castiel still loved his friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Love the Way You Lie

Dear Castiel,

You may not know this, but this is Dean. Right now, you're in the hospital, right where Sam was, and you have no idea what's going on. I know this, because I was there before. But that's a story for another day.

Anyways, I'm writing to find out what the hell happened? Everything was okay in the beginning. I thought maybe we had gained a new ally, maybe even a friend. Hell, I kind of thought you could be like my brother. It was like we maybe had a chance at winning this thing.

And we did, for a while. Even when Sam came back without a soul, it was okay. And I know you did it. But I thought maybe we would make it again.

Then, we found out. You had been plotting with Crowley. I don't give a damn what your intentions were. You know what would happen. You knew it would destroy everything. And I'm still surprised that it turned out this way. I should have fucking known. You're an Angel. They all have their damned schemes that only destroy and hurt.

But none of them were our friends! You were, God damn it! I trusted you! Why would you have to destroy it? Why? I know all of the other angels have their damn schemes, but you didn't have to. We could have found a way to do whatever the hell you were trying to do ourselves. We always do, and you know that.

You took those plots to an extreme. You completely ruined everything. I don't even know if my brother will ever be okay. And Bobby's dead. It's your fucking fault. You released the God damned Leviathan and one of them shot Bobby. He died, in a hospital, and it was your fault. He trusted you! He fed you, gave you clothes, and even let you sleep in his house. He didn't have to. At all. He wanted to.

You know what, in some sort of sick way, I still admire you. You're still my hero, somehow. And don't ask me, because I don't know. I hate it. I hate you. I wish I never met you. Yet, you're my hero.

And some tiny part of me knows that you couldn't help what you did, because of orders. That you didn't have your mind. I don't care, though. You've broken orders before, why not now? When it was most important?

Now, my throat hurts. I've sat here in front of you and screamed at you for hours and you still stare at that stupid wall. You don't even acknowledge me, or Meg. I can hardly speak. My throat hurts so bad I can hardly stand it. I wish you had this pain. Hell, I wish you were dead. You sicken me.

Your glass of water is on the floor, in a thousand pieces. I smashed it when you reached for it. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve the air you breathe. You betrayed us. You destroyed the only thing Sam had keeping him slightly sain. You murdered Bobby. You may not have pulled the trigger, but you let it happen. You can pick up the water, if you even care. You probably don't. Everybody has to wait hand and foot on Mr. Perfect.

And once again, I'm letting you win. I'm fighting back, like you want. Why else would you ignore me? It's not fair that you always win when you're horrible. Hell, even when I'm right, you still win. You don't care. It's never going to be time for someone else to win or get what they want. Only yours. You have to get exactly what you want when you want it. Right, Castiel?

I figured out why you always win. It's your damn lies. You tell us everything's okay, and we stupidly believe you. And when we don't, you threaten us. They're just empty words. You wouldn't physically hurt us. Just betray us, you know, because that's so much easier to know one of the few people you trust let you down.

In a sick way, all of these stinking battles are what keeps my coming back to you. It's the only thing that keeps me holding on to you. I always know you'll be there to fight me, and to piss me off. Looks like you ruined that, too. You left us, Cass.

Maybe I like it. Maybe I like the pain of betrayal and getting hurt every time I trust someone. You've hurt me I don't know how many times. Sam had his demon blood. Dad was never there. I have no one. And I _still _trust people. I let them in, even though I know deep down that I'm just going to hurt in the end.

And I'm trying to stop. I'm trying to get away from this mess, you, Sam, everything. I need to. I'll end up hating myself even more than I do. That thing in Bobby's dream was right. I do hate what I see in the mirror. Every single bit of it. I hate how I let people demolish me and then I give them another chance. I always do.

I still don't want to leave. I know you're going to be okay, eventually, and so is Sam. I can't leave you guys behind while I rot in Hell. There's no way I'll make it into Heaven.

I can't leave until it's all gone. Until this stupid car is gone, until Bobby's house is gone, the cabin, everything. Just like our memories, because I know you will forget I ever existed. I'm a human; I'm lucky you even acknowledged me in the first place. Why should I expect such a beautiful creature to look at me and find me worthy?

Go ahead, watch as I slowly destroy myself. Watch me fall apart. You always have. You always will. When I'm in Hell, you'll look down at me as I turn into a demon and know that you caused this. I hope you feel guilty.

But it's okay, it really is. I kind of like the feeling of burning inside. I like being lit on fire from the inside out, cell by cell. It's the only thing I have to look forward to anymore. I like feeling the burn inside as I lose everything.

Are you going to watch me die inside? Because I am. No one knows it, yet. I feel numb, until I fall apart and burn again. And then I'll feel numb again. I always do. Sick cycle, huh? You can sit in your damn chair and listen to me scream until I can't speak again. You won't do anything.

It's okay, Cass. It really is. Want to know why? I love the way you hurt me and tell me it's okay. I love all of these damn lies. I love the way your voice changes when you lie to me. I love the way you lie.

_Dean Winchester_


End file.
